


All the Strange Rock and Rollers

by Audrey_Lynne



Series: We Thought the Wall Would Stand Forever [2]
Category: Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001), Hedwig and the Angry Inch - Trask/Mitchell
Genre: Hedwig's Recovery, Other, Repairing Relationships, Self-Discovery, The passport thing, This poor band, Trans Character, Wicked Little Town, making amends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3400943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audrey_Lynne/pseuds/Audrey_Lynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recovery continues.  Picking up the pieces, putting them back together.  Exploring themselves.  Getting back to the good.</p><p>Also, as usual, the band has absolutely no idea what's going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Strange Rock and Rollers

**Author's Note:**

> This series is getting away from me. The plot bunnies just multiply. These are mostly going to be one-shots, but some are connected, and this one most definitely is connected to the previous, Double Pheonix Rising. (It's short!) The plan is to follow the characters as the reinvent themselves and their lives after the events of the stage show... (Some of them will actually be funny, I swear.)
> 
> For the record, I see Hedwig as very genderfluid after the finale, as JCM described it, "More than a woman, more than a man, a gender of one." The character is still exploring self, though, so pronouns and presentation are going to be shifting throughout the one-shots as it's dealt with. And, honestly, depending on Hedwig's mood at the time.

* * *

 

 

The members of the Angry Inch had grown accustomed to a near-constant state of not having any idea what was going on. It was hard to expect something like stability when one was in the employ of a diva with moods as labile and unpredictable as a summer storm. (It was even harder to demand any sense of stability when said diva maintained close possession of one's passport.) They didn't hate Hedwig, exactly. It was hard to hate someone who was obviously working from a place of so many issues. Besides, to hate, they would have had to have a deeper emotional involvement in the first place. That was how they dealt with the drama, the insults, the uncertainty. They just, really, stopped caring and just went along for the ride. They kept mostly to themselves, though they had bonded with Yitzhak. It was almost impossible not to – the guy needed someone on his side. How he put up with all he did, day in and out, was beyond any of them.

 

And then there was last night.

 

It had been a typical show, really – the Broadway venue had been unexpected, but nice. Hedwig went through her usual drama, laid out her life, though with the infamous Tommy Gnosis playing a block away, it had gotten a little deeper. The cracks had been showing near the end of the performance, and not just in Hedwig. Yitzhak dealt with his fair share of bullshit as part of the show – hell, it wasn't any worse than what he put up with offstage. But she'd been more vicious than usual and then would lead him on with just enough affection to placate before tearing him down again. The band hadn't been happy about it, but what could they really do? It was in the middle of a show. And, as Hedwig had been quick to remind them, it was hard to take sides when one had no passport.

 

Then everything had gone to hell. Hedwig tended to feign a mini-breakdown as part of her choreography in the final sets. But this had been more dramatic than usual. And when she started screaming and ripping her clothes off, well, it was pretty clear to the band this was entirely unscripted. Yitzhak had tried to intervene, tried to calm her, but she'd shoved him away roughly, and that final rejection seemed to shatter him. He'd raged briefly before collapsing in tears while Hedwig ran out the back door. They'd all wanted to comfort him, but his body language was fierce, guarded; it was clear he didn't want anyone to touch him. So they'd stood in silence – as usual, wondering what the hell was going on. The audience didn't know any better. They were spellbound.

 

Then Hedwig had stumbled back in, they'd rallied for the finale. It was obvious, somewhere in the breakdown or whatever might have happened outside, Hedwig had come to some realizations. She? He? They didn't know anymore. But Hedwig was humbled, kinder. Approaching them. Affectionate. Yitzhak was free to be himself again, that beautiful drag queen Krystal, and the change was blinding. None of the band had ever seen him smile like that before. There was actual healing going on, and for awhile in those first few hours, when they'd retreated to their hotel, there was very real hope that things were finally going to get better.

 

Then it occurred to them they might actually be out of a job, depending on how things went, and they still didn't have their passports.

 

By morning, it was the usual state of affairs. Cautiously waiting for some kind of news. Absolutely unsure what was going on. They busied themselves as usual – tuning the instruments, ordering pizza, playing cards. Phyllis called to tell them not to check out; their stay in New York had been extended. Which seemed to be good news, but she was flighty as usual and didn't provide details. So, back to the poker game, until the bag of mini Snickers they were using as currency was exhausted.

 

Finally, Jacek said it. “So...are we going to talk about this, or no?” They usually didn't bother discussing whatever the latest drama was; it always blew over in time. But this was different.

 

Schlatko shrugged. “I think we might need to make sure they're still alive.” His tone was light, but he'd switched from English to Russian, an indication that, yes, they were going to talk about this. All four of the band members hailed from different Eastern European countries, each with their own native language. But they all happened to speak Russian, so they defaulted to that for group conversations about serious matters. They had more proficiency with it than English, so it allowed for deeper discussion – and had the side benefit of Hedwig not being able to understand them if she happened to be nearby.

 

Krzysztof laughed. “Did you see that kiss? I think this is the one time we might _not_ have to worry about them murdering each other.”

 

Jacek smirked. “Okay, so they're probably not dead. But I think we have some right to know what's going on. I read the reviews this morning. Are we the only ones who realize that wasn't some act? Well, besides those two, of course.”

 

“Eh, that's the business.” Skszp shrugged. “The audience will always believe whatever you let them believe. We should definitely call them, though.”

 

Schlatko grinned at Skszp. “You're nominated.”

 

Skszp scowled a bit – but, technically, as musical director, he could get away with being a bit nosier than the others. He shrugged, pulling out his phone and dialing. From a pile of clothing a few feet away, there was a faint ringing – Yitzhak's phone. “Well, there goes that idea.” Not only would it have just been easier to get an update from Yitzhak, Skszp was from Croatia as well, and it had allowed them many a stealthy conversation when they weren't sure how Hedwig might react.

 

“I suppose we're just going to have to suck it up and call their room.” Jacek sighed. “I'll do it, fine.” He grabbed the hotel room's phone, dialing in the room number and waiting. After a brief conversation – mostly pleasantries, which was weird – he hung up, looking even more mystified than ever.

 

“Well?” Krzysztof prompted, leaning forward expectantly.

 

“Well.” Jacek shrugged, shaking his head. “They're alive. And we've been invited to dinner.”

 

Skszp had, unfortunately, taken that moment to grab a sip of the drink beside him, and he nearly choked. “Dinner?” They'd eaten meals in the same room before, but in all the years they'd been touring together, Hedwig had never once invited them to dinner. “This is a strange new world.”

 

“So what'd you say?” Schlatko asked.

 

Jacek made a face at him. “It's free food, what do you _think_ I said?”

 

They all nodded, conceding the point – they were musicians, after all. Maybe they'd finally get some answers – but, given that they were used to going without answers, free food was enticing enough.

 

* * *

 

“Kryyyyyyyystallllllll.” Hedwig may have been starting a new chapter in life, but she still had the capacity to whine and she had no qualms about using it at the moment. “The phone's ringing agaaaaaain.”

 

“Let it ring,” Krystal murmured, not removing her head from under the pillow.

 

“Well, you're useless.” But unlike recently, the accusation lacked any heat – it was playful, teasing, though perhaps delicately so. “Fine, I'll get it.” After a brief conversation with Jacek, Hedwig dove back under the blanket, cuddling back up to Krystal. They hadn't been out of bed all day, and they were both fine with it. “We're having dinner with the band.”

 

“Oh, that'll be lovely--” Krystal blinked, suddenly, turning her head to actually look at Hedwig with a smile. “You actually invited them to dinner?”

 

Hedwig frowned. “What? We've had dinner with them before.”

 

“We've eaten with them before.” Krystal was still smiling, gently. “I think it will be wonderful.”

 

“Oh, come on, I've had to ask them to dinner at least once, right?” Hedwig was more disturbed by this revelation than she'd expected. And, she, it was still a mental default to refer to herself that way. It worked for the moment. It might change in the morning. And that seemed to be erratic, deciding how she felt on a daily basis, but no one had ever accused her of being stable. She was free of the trappings, of her larger than life persona, and that was enough at the moment. She could be herself now, but who _was_ that? The familiar had a sense of comfort about it. Tomorrow she could experiment, define further. The Today Show interview Phyllis had booked them might be a nice start. Now it was time for it to be just her, and Krystal – who had always known who she was, but had been so long denied. The fresh guilt about that weighed on Hedwig, and combined with the revelation that she had somehow managed never to do so much as invite the band to dinner in all the years they'd been together, it was a surprising weight. She screamed into a pillow, for the sake of Krystal's ears. “God, just how much of a bitch _have I been_?”

 

Krystal chewed on her lower lip in that adorable way she had when she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to answer a question. “Well...”

 

“Oh, God.” Hedwig groaned. “I mean, I know it was bad, but...just tell me. Like, a scale of one to ten. Trust me, you can't make me feel too much worse about myself.” Her self-loathing had been at an all time high even before the breakdown. If anything, she now felt somewhat better equipped to work on it.

 

“Um, twenty?” Krystal squirmed. “I mean – yes. It was bad.”

 

“Oh, _God_.” Hedwig pulled the pillow back over her head. She'd known she'd been, well, terrible, but to actually hear it was just embarrassing at this point.

 

Krystal wasn't swayed, and pulled the pillow away, kissing her gently. “We can work on it. Things are already better, by...oh, what's the word?” She frowned. “Light years. Something like that, yes.” She stroked Hedwig's cheek gently with one hand. “We were both different people yesterday. The past, we can't erase it, but we can learn from it, maybe?”

 

Hedwig nodded, reaching up to cup Krystal's cheek with her hand. “You are wonderful and I don't deserve you. You're right. As I've always said – when life hands you lemons, put them in your bra.”

 

Krystal laughed. “Hmm, sound advice.”

 

“Well, it certainly couldn't hurt the situation.” Hedwig shrugged, happy to hear Krystal's laugh again. It had been too long, and she tried not to focus on how much of that was her fault. But she lit up, thinking suddenly. “Bras. Crap. We have to get you some. And most of my clothes are going to be too big on you.”

 

Krystal smiled, a little more shyly, but her eyes were bright with anticipation. “Are we going shopping then?”

 

“Absolutely, love.” A little retail therapy had always done her a lot of good, and she could get some new pieces for her own wardrobe, for days she leaned toward the more masculine side of her gender of one. They would come, she was sure. She laughed with excitement of her own. There was still glitter from the night before randomly decorating the bed, them. “Come on, let's pull ourselves together. I'll do your makeup. This is Times Square and there are at least four clothing stores within spitting distance. We've got work to do.”

 

* * *

 

One of the nicer things about being in New York City was that no one even glanced up at a group of punk rockers as they walked through a hotel. No suspicious glares, just nothing. Sometimes it was nice not to be noticed. Especially as they were finally getting notice from their formerly mercurial employer. They got off the elevator – their room was a floor down from Hedwig and Yitzhak's – and headed down the hall, knocking. Jacek wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't what they were greeted with. Then again, at this point, that sort of thing was par for the course.

 

Hedwig opened the door, smiling. She was wearing some makeup, but it was light and flattering instead of dramatic. Her hair was natural, though spiked up somewhat. She'd even _slept_ in her wigs before, so that was definitely new. No outlandish outfit, just a simple sweater and jeans, though there were piles of clothing on the king-sized bed. Jacek glanced behind him to catch his bandmates' faces, and they were equally unsure how to react. But she was kind, welcoming them in, explaining they'd just decided to order in and the delivery guy should be arriving soon. It was almost...normal, but normal was too far of a reach for them. There was a couch, plus a few chairs, so the band settled in.

 

A sharp curse and the clattering of something from the bathroom broke the awkward silence, followed by, “Your fucking curling iron is possessed!”

 

Hedwig smiled fondly, then blinked, laughing suddenly. “It's meant to work on _synthetics_ , do you think I actually curled _my hair_ ?” She rose from where she'd settled on the edge of the bed. “Excuse me, I have to rescue my wife from herself.” Then she was heading for the bathroom. “Krystal, honey, _please_ don't fry your hair, I'm coming.”

 

As Hedwig disappeared into the bathroom, Jacek looked at the others again. “Well, that was...interesting,” he said, in Russian for the benefit of a semi-clandestine conversation.

 

Krzysztof shrugged. “I kind of like it.”

 

“Oh, I like it,” Jacek agreed. "It's just more than a 180. It's a totally different _planet_.”

 

“If she's going to keep actually being nice to us, I'll go to space.” Schlatko shrugged.

 

“Agreed.” Skszp was smiling, glancing in the direction Hedwig had left. “We all knew things were going to be different, but I think it's a very good different.”

 

Krzysztof laughed. “Yeah, but good luck still getting her to say your name.”

 

Skszp shrugged. “What can I say? She's German. She might actually _try_ now.”

 

“I guess that's all we can ask for.” Schlatko grinned, and picked up the glass near him, holding it out to the others in a mock toast. It was empty, but it was the thought that counted. “Here's to going to space.”

 

* * *

 

Hedwig tried not to laugh, really she did, at Krystal trying to curl her hair with the wig curling iron, but Krystal was always so cute when she was frustrated and she looked adorable anyway. New dress, makeup just done. When it wasn't gelled back, her natural hair was just long enough to do something with, and it probably would have looked great with some curl, but this wasn't the way. Hedwig kissed her forehead, smiling. “I am going to have so much fun teaching you how to be a girl.” Krystal knew some things from her drag queen days, but it had been a long time. “We'll assess your basic foundation and build from there.”

 

Krystal smiled back, gently wiping the lipstick from her forehead. “Thank you. You should have _told_ me that was just for wigs, no wonder.”

 

“I assumed you knew – my mistake.” Hedwig smiled, playing with Krystal's hair and grabbing a little bit of gel, working it in and teasing a bit. “Here, it's not your enemy, it's just how you use it. You can use one of my wigs if you want, too; I don't mind. We'll get you a proper curling iron tomorrow. I think we should have a stylist for the show, though.”

 

“Probably wear the wig, then,” Krystal murmured. “That's the thing I always liked about it – one look for the public, another for home...”

 

“The world's your oyster,” Hedwig agreed. “There.” She'd gotten Krystal's hair to style – it was an intentionally messy look, short but framing her face. “Don't you look lovely? It'll grow fast. Your hair always does. And if it gets frizzy and unmanageable, that's why God gave us deep-conditioning and wigs.”

 

Krystal smiled, turning to hug Hedwig tightly. “Thank you.”

 

“Of course.” Hedwig smiled. “Now, are you ready for your official debut?” Last night, it had been the performer; tonight it was the woman. Hedwig knew that difference too well...her problems had started when she stopped separating the two.

 

Krystal nodded, squeezing Hedwig's hand. “Let's do this.”

 

* * *

 

The evening had gone well. Krystal had beamed at the band's reactions to her, blushing adorably when Skszp had told her something in their native tongue – apparently, that she was cute. The six of them were getting to know one another, both again and for the first time in some aspects. They'd accepted Krystal's transition unblinkingly, but even if they hadn't known on some level this was her destiny, they clearly saw how happy it made her. There were ideas tossed about for the show's new direction. It was hard to think of anything concrete when everything was still so new, but the band had some excellent ideas, and Hedwig reminded herself to seek their creative input more often.

 

It was midnight before they knew it, and that was no strange hour to any of them, but Phyllis apparently hadn't considered that when booking them on a morning show with a five am call time. Not that Hedwig could really blame her in this case. She _was_ their manager, and publicity was her job. And the band wasn't exempt from this one; they had a musical slot after the interview. The plan was to do Origin of Love, as Phyllis had immediately vetoed letting them, as Hedwig had suggested, “wing it.”

 

Before they parted, Hedwig retrieved a small lockbox from the closet, opening it and handing each of the band members their passports. She feared she'd start monologuing if she went for the full apology that was in her head, so she settled for telling them simply, “I do hope you'll choose to stay, despite everything. But if you want to, you're free to go. Just...not before tomorrow morning, please; we've got an audience to rock.” They were stunned, but grateful, and after exchanging hugs, they were on their way.

 

Krystal curled up to Hedwig on the couch, settling her head against Hedwig's chest. That was one problem they'd never had. Krystal had never hesitated to love Hedwig's body as it was, instead of how she might have wanted it to be. “Hey, don't get too comfortable,” Hedwig teased. “We've still got to wash this makeup off and get ready for bed.” As much as they'd slept throughout the day, she was still tired, but she knew most of the exhaustion was probably emotional. “And I've got something for you too.”

 

Krystal looked up at her, though she didn't move. “You've already given me so much today.”

 

Hedwig frowned. “What, your identity? No. That was never mine to take.” If she started apologizing again, she knew she'd become a mess, so she instead extracted herself gently, returning to the couch with a thin folder containing the sheet music to “Wicked Little Town.”

 

Krystal took the folder, opening it, and frowned at Hedwig. “What's this for?”

 

Hedwig kissed her gently. “I wrote it for a girl who was trying to find herself. Who had to be something she wasn't to get by.”

 

Krystal touched Hedwig's face. “It's your story.”

 

“And yours.” Hedwig smiled. “It's your song now. I don't mind the gentle backup harmonies.” She'd altered the lyrics only slightly, changing the Junction City reference to Bjelovar, the city Krystal had grown up in before her family had rejected her and she had fled to Zagreb to start her drag career. Hedwig could tell the moment Krystal noticed, because her eyes teared up.

 

“You remembered that,” Krystal said softly, her voice shaky with emotion. They didn't talk about their early lives much with each other. There had never been any desire or need to rehash those old hurts, except the parts that made for good storytelling. “Thank you.”

 

“You're quite welcome.” Hedwig took Krystal's face gently in her hands, pulling her close for a kiss and wiping the stray tears away. “I know we can't do this on our own, not all of it. But let's make this work? We can go back to that therapist you wanted to try once, or...whatever we need. I don't deserve you, but I don't want to let you go.”

 

Krystal smiled. “I already agreed to marry you, didn't I?”

 

“So you did.” Hedwig nodded. “Any conditions?” She was only mostly teasing.

 

“Just one.” Krystal pulled Hedwig close, whispering in her ear, “Let's be happy.”

 

That, Hedwig could most definitely agree to.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
